The Queen's wotsit is on. The state opens parliament.
All this tosh symbolises freedom, democracy ... er, hold on. No, it doesn't.
It actually symbolises that we live in the past, in a system which, although it's the best we've got, is far from sensible. It symbolises that a herd of beefeaters, costing God knows how much, who couldn't defend the Queen or the Tower from a six-year-old with a peashooter, are pomping around the place at the taxpayer's expense. It symbolises that the Queen, who should have given up years ago, is really only any good for decorating stamps. It symbolises that a pile of hasbeens (sorry, Lady T) are STILL troughing from the family pot.
And it means that there is more of the same.
"My noble Lord".
"The honourable member".
"I shall name him".
Look, get rid. The best thing you can do is to get rid of this ancient and self-perpetuating cobblers.
And if there's one thing I'd REALLY like to see in parliament, it's that when an honourable member believes that another honourable member is guilty of terminological inexactitudes, he just calls him a fucking liar.
Because, I'm afraid, that's what he is.
Go on. Argue.